


Action & Reaction

by eledhwenlin



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon and Spencer read the AP TYV interview and ... it's not that easy to deal with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Action & Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a year ago right after the interview with TYV in AP came out. The lovely reni_days betaed this for me. <3333 Thank you, darling! All remaining errors are, as always, my own fault.

The issue lies unread on their coffee table for almost a whole week. Spencer brings it in with the rest of their mail and dumps everything on their kitchen table, together with the bag of groceries he's carrying. He doesn't pay any attention to it at the time, it is just another issue of yet another music magazine--sometimes Spencer is convinced that Brendon is addicted to those, given how many subscriptions he has. 

It isn't until later, after he put the groceries away and Brendon came home, that Spencer finds the time to sort their mail into neat piles and he takes a look at the table of contents. _Oh_ , he thinks, as he stares at the headline. Brendon gives him a curious look and takes the magazine from him. He, too, stills and carefully closes the magazine. Together they stare at the issue, give each other a look and then the magazine goes onto their coffee table, to _be read later_.

It has been almost a week, and they still can’t bring themselves to read it, because the issue had not been on its current resting place for even two hours until Pete called, quietly inquiring if they had read it yet. And then Zack called. And Patrick. By the time Tom called, Spencer and Brendon had reached a unanimous agreement to completely ignoring the magazine. The fact that everyone let it slide when they answered that, _no, they hadn't gotten around to it yet, recording the best album ever, remember?_ , only made the slight stomach ache Spencer had going on worse. 

But right now Spencer stares at the magazine, glares at it even. It feels like the fucking thing is taunting him. Whatever's in there can't be worse than all the things he'd been imagining. He's gonna read the fucking interview now, so they can have it over with. 

Except when Spencer opens the magazine, he thinks that, no, maybe he shouldn't read it alone. Brendon will ask Spencer to repeat every single word, if he does, and then Brendon will agonise over each choice of word and Spencer will obsess about remembering it correctly and he'll end up reading it again and--it's much easier to make Brendon read it with him.

Brendon's playing around with a melody in his room, but he comes when Spencer tugs on his arm. It's only when they're back in the living room and he sees Brendon's slightly worried face that Spencer realises that he didn't even say anything to Brendon about what they're about to do. It's entirely possible that Spencer dreads this more than he is willing to admit to himself. 

Spencer takes a deep breath. "The interview. We're going to read it and then it will be done and we will know what it says, okay?" 

Brendon nods. He looks defeated and a bit sad and not very surprised. "Yeah", he says, in a small voice. "I guess we put it off long enough." 

Together they sit down, and for a moment Spencer feels stupid, sitting there on their couch, bracing themselves for the worst, for reading an interview. This is Ryan and Jon, they were--no, they _are_ \--their friends. Then he remembers the screaming matches between Brendon and Ryan, the cold silences at the end of them. These are their friends, who also know what to say to hurt them the most. They haven't spoken at all in months, and often it's Spencer's mom who gives Spencer updates on Ryan. For all his faults, Ryan still speaks to her, the only maternal figure he's really known. On the one hand, Spencer is glad that Ryan still trusts his mom enough to call her once a month, but on the other hand, he's spent nearly twenty years being that relay station between Ryan and the rest of the world.

If he ever doubted that Ryan and Jon leaving was for the best, though, he only needs to look at Brendon. Being on their own, writing their own songs, is difficult and unfamiliar, but Brendon has visibly perked up. They have spent hours in their practice room just jamming, getting lost in the music, and it's easy in a way it wasn't while Ryan and Jon were still there. From what he's heard, Spencer thinks that Ryan and Jon enjoy their own new musical adventures just as much,

They read in silence. By the time they hit the second page of the interview, Brendon is shaking next to Spencer, and Spencer ... Spencer is speechless. When they're done, Spencer stares so hard at the feature with the albums that the covers are blurring before his eyes. He can't believe this, can't believe they really said this.

Brendon suddenly grabs the magazine and throws it across the room. It lands between their coffee table and the TV set, half open on a random page. Spencer looks at Brendon and finds him looking right back. Brendon's face is open hurt.

Spencer remembers being seventeen, sleeping over in Brendon's crappy apartment with a bag of groceries that he had to insist his mother bought too much of. He remembers holding Brendon as they slept on his mattress with old Batman sheets, after yet another phone call to his parents that went nowhere, just more silence and more compromises Brendon couldn't make. He was there and comforted Brendon when school got to be too much, provided coffee and sweets and leftovers after long shifts at the Smoothie Hut. He remembers being seventeen and feeling helpless in face of Brendon's hurt. Spencer never ever wanted to feel like that again. 

Except Brendon looks even more hurt now, disbelief written all over his face, pale with suppressed rage, and suddenly Spencer is so fucking angry, because what the fuck was that all about?

"Shocked?" Brendon says. "Shocked that we kept the name? _Shocked?_ We _kept the tour from them?_ And that we were gonna keep the name?"

From his dog basket Bogart whines quietly and Brendon immediately homes in on him. "Bogart! Come, we're gonna go for a walk! The doggie park, play ball?" There are few things Bogart reacts faster to than the words _doggie park_ and _ball_. 

"Brendon ...", Spencer starts, not sure what to say. He thinks that maybe they should talk. But Brendon has already grabbed Bogart's favourite ball and his leash. Spencer lets him leave. Brendon always needs to work off his anger physically, whether by playing the piano or the guitar until he couldn't move his arms anymore, or having one-night-stands to deal with a bad break-up. Brendon needs to run around in the park with his dog right now, Spencer understands.

It takes Brendon several hours to come back. Spencer straightens up the living room, cleans the kitchen and the bathroom, and stops short of re-alphabetising their movie collection and sorting out stuff to give to Goodwill. Then, when he can't put it off any longer, he calls Pete. 

"Hey," he says. Pete pauses a moment. Spencer doesn't think he sounds much different than normally, but apparently there's enough for Pete to tell. "You read it?" Pete asks quietly. 

"Yeah. I ... we read it."

Pete makes an affirmative sound. "How's Brendon?" They both know how much the words have stung. They've seen Brendon fill notebook after notebook and they have both been present for some pretty major screaming matches between Brendon and Ryan over whether or not Brendon's _silly little ditties_ were fit for a Panic record. They've been there, and they know that Ryan and Jon did nothing but go directly for the head shot in their interview. Brendon doesn't know how to _not_ make up melodies and rhythms. Perhaps his lyrics don't have as many five dollar words in them as Ryan's, but it's not like Ryan's current songs do, either. 

"Exhausting Bogart and himself at the dog park." Spencer sighs. "I don't get it, Pete. I, we were ... we fucking _promoted their album_."

Pete's quiet. "I don't think there's anybody who gets it, Spence. Not after all this time."

Spencer leans back and lets himself slump down on the couch, suddenly tired and sad beyond words. "I thought that maybe it would help, if they got their record out first", he admits. Pete hasn't accused them of stalling, but he has been giving them some pretty eloquent looks because, yeah. Maybe Ryan and Jon had a lot more finished songs to begin with, but at least Spencer and Brendon didn't have to look for a new label first. By all means, they should have finished their record a while ago, and it's all because Brendon is unhappy with this song and Spencer wants to rework the drum line on that one, and they both agree that this other song doesn't quite fit in with the others that they keep writing and rewriting and mixing and remixing. How neither John nor Pete haven't killed them yet in a fit of _Oh my god, why won't you finish the fucking thing_ , Spencer doesn't know. 

Pete snorts. "What made you think that?"

Because Ryan's competitive, Spencer thinks. Because he wants to be best, because he has this _vision_. And if the most recent Panic album people would compare _Take a Vacation_ to was _Pretty. Odd_ , it would be easier. Clearly, Spencer was all wrong. He thinks, maybe we should've worked harder on the new album just so people could see how different it's going to be. He sighs. 

"You know what pissed me off the most?" Pete asks him suddenly.

"No, what?"

"How shocking it was that you kept the name. And went on tour. As if he hadn't signed the fucking contract only a few months before. Did he ever read the small print?"

Spencer laughs, not exactly kindly. "Who, Ryan? The same Ryan who forgot to pay his electric bill each month until it was turned off and I set up automatic payments for him? That Ryan? Reading the small print?"

Privately, Spencer thinks that _that_ clause, the clause about liability in case Panic had to cancel the tour, was put there on purpose, and fuck him if Pete didn't have his hand in that. Pete comes across as a douche, but he's pretty observant, and the split between Camp Ryan and Camp Brendon was already obvious by the end of their last tour, especially when they "started writing" again.

But Spencer's pretty sure that Ryan never read the contract completely to figure out that, hey, if they backed out of the tour--for _any_ reason--they'd have a hell of a fine to pay. Sometimes Spencer wonders how Ryan survives now, without Spencer to make sure his contracts are okay, without Keltie who had enough common sense for the two of them. Then he resolutely pushes that thought from his mind--Ryan's somebody else's problem now. If only that SEP field would actually work in real life, he thinks.

"Guess not. At least he didn't complain that we brought the exclamation point back."

Pete guffaws. "Yeah, at least you got that. Listen, Spence, I gotta go, but you can call me any time, you know that, right? Tell Brendon, too. And don't do anything rash." With that, he's gone, leaving Spencer to stare at his phone. 

"Dude, I'd be so much more willing to listen to you, if you hadn't told the internet you weren't in Fall Out Boy anymore, just because your best friend didn't return your calls for a week," he tells his phone earnestly. Then he lies down on the couch and waits for Brendon to come home. The TV can't hold his attention, either, there's nothing good on, but Spencer settles on the Food Network. He watches Martha Stewart be all 1960's housewife, and listens for the door. 

He falls asleep. Later he is abruptly awoken by Bogart jumping on his stomach. "Bogart, down! Sorry, Spence." Brendon gingerly sits down at Spencer's feet and Bogart immediately deserts Spencer's stomach to settle down on Brendon's lap. Spencer watches Brendon, not sure what he could or should say.

Spencer does understand that Ryan and Jon are hurt and angry. Hell, Brendon and Spencer themselves are still hurt and angry, and every time someone mentions the split, it still aches. They were all friends, until they suddenly weren't anymore. It's just that Spencer doesn't get why they would lash out against them like that. They've worked hard to keep the facade that it was an amicable split, and for god's sake, it's been a year. 

Spencer nudges Brendon with his foot. At first Brendon doesn't react, but then he lists sideways and lets himself fall on Spencer. This is the Brendon Spencer knows--seeking comfort in touching. And Spencer is all too happy to give him what he needs. He tugs gently on Brendon's arms, pulling him up and close until he's the small spoon to Spencer's big spoon. Bogart takes the chance to settle on their feet. Brendon sighs, as Spencer wraps his arm around Brendon's middle. Together, they watch Martha bake a cake in silence.

Finally Brendon turns around to face Spencer. He looks tired and sad. "Hey," Spencer says. He doesn't know how to make Brendon feel better except by hugging him. Brendon hides his face in Spencer's neck, and his breath feels hot against Spencer's skin. Spencer is rubbing Brendon's shoulders, because this is how Brendon decompresses--physical touch, but the connection and intimacy of being this close. It used to annoy Spencer that Brendon had no concept of physical space, and was so used to being touched and held and comforted. Now it's something Spencer almost looks forward to.

Brendon relaxes gradually, slowly letting Spencer rub all the tension out of his shoulders. His breath puffs regularly against Spencer's throat, Brendon's arms tightening around Spencer's waist. They stay like that for a while--Spencer can't have said whether it has been minutes or hours if his life depends on it--, when Brendon moves. He looks at Spencer with tired eyes. "I don't understand it."

Spencer wishes he did, so he could even try and explain this. "They're just mad."

"But why? Didn't they get everything they wanted?"

Brendon sounds wretched. They were all mad at the time, after all the fights and silences and screaming matches and trying to make it work and failing every time, but it's been a year, and that's a long time to hold onto a grudge. While Ryan is the type to hold a grudge for all eternity, Jon--well, Jon isn't. Jon still talks to William and Mike and the rest of TAI..., even after all the shit with Tom went down. He's stayed friends with pretty much everyone he ever met, except Brendon and Spencer. Spencer could reason away Ryan, because he's good at that, has so much experience at explaining Ryan's quirks and idiosyncrasies, but Jon's remarks hurt more because they were so unexpected. "I don't know, B," is what he finally says. "I don't know."

Brendon holds on tighter, almost to the point where it hurts. "Spencer, when you start hating me, please promise me you'll never do something like that to me, okay?"

"What?" Spencer tries to sit up so he can look at Brendon properly, but Brendon doesn't let him. "Why would I hate you? And why _when_? Don't I even get the proverbial benefit of the doubt?" He tries to make it a joke, but it comes out strained. 

Brendon shrugs, the motion short and uncomfortable because of their position. "Just seems like nobody's trying to stick around longer than they need to." Spencer knows exactly where this one comes from and one day he is going to massacre Brendon's entire family and nobody will judge him for it. Ever since they made up, Brendon's family seems torn between trying to get Brendon to return to the safe fold of the Church, and cutting ties once again. Of all of them, only Kara seems to actually accept Brendon as he is, sex and alcohol and caffeine and rock 'n' roll and everything, and too often Brendon comes home from vacations and birthday parties looking sad and exhausted. The worst part is, Spencer knows they try. They really try to accept him, but Brendon's turned out so differently from the rest of them, and just don't know what to do with him. And Brendon keeps getting hurt, because he goes back for a wedding and isn't allowed in the temple, and he tries to cover it up by laughing and smiling more, but the pain is still there to see.

"I promise you I'll always stick around," Spencer says and he gives Brendon a squeeze. "I promise."

Brendon smiles, a tired, sad smile, but a smile nevertheless. "Dirty liar," is his answer, but it's grateful, quiet, and Brendon clings close. Spencer wraps both arms tighter around Brendon and tugs him closer.

He does want to always be with Brendon, in the forever-and-ever-and-happily-ever-after-kind of sense, but he can't tell Brendon. This is as much as he gets, and he never lets himself dwell too much on any what-ifs. This is what Brendon is willing to give to him. 

Brendon clings, holding on to Spencer like a lifeline, and Spencer squeezes him back just as much. In the background Martha changes to Gordon Ramsey and back to Martha. Brendon's completely relaxed in Spencer's arms, a warm and heavy bundle. At their feet, Bogart's snuffling in his sleep. It feels homey.

Spencer wants this all the time, Brendon in his arms, letting Spencer close. He wants even more, but he doesn't know how to ask for any of it and he probably wouldn't even if he did, because it's _Brendon_ , and Spencer can't fuck this up. Brendon is his band and his chosen family and the best friend he has left. But some days, he wants this so much his chest hurts with the thought alone. _Some days_ is becoming _more and more often_ is becoming _almost always_ , and Spencer's not sure how much longer he'll be able to stand it. 

Brendon settles against Spencer more firmly, wriggling a bit, tangling their legs, and that's all it takes for Spencer to pop the world's most inconvenient boner. He tries to shift Brendon away a bit, but Brendon's a stubborn motherfucker. When he clings, he's like a limpet. He pulls himself even closer to Spencer, so their chests are fully pressed together. "Hey," Brendon murmurs, "just ... don't move away. One more minute, okay?" Spencer nods and resigns himself to the most uncomfortable minute in his life. Brendon squeezes him tight, and then he suddenly shifts and his leg ends up pressed straight against Spencer's cock.

Spencer is pretty sure his heart stops in that moment. There's no way Brendon can't not feel his hard-on, and the only mercy is that Brendon still has his face buried in Spencer's neck, and Spencer doesn't have to look him in the eye. He feels Brendon tense slightly under his hands.

"Spence?"

Spencer freezes. He feels put on the spot and doesn't know what to say, which seems to be the theme of the day. When Brendon moves to look at Spencer's face, Spencer tightens his arms and doesn't let him. He can't look at Brendon yet. "Sorry." He frantically tries to find a reason that would make this okay, and comes up blank.

"What are you sorry for?" Brendon asks, but Spencer doesn't answer.

Brendon sighs exasperatedly, and starts tickling Spencer right in that spot under his ribs, and Spencer has to release his hold. Then he takes Spencer's face into his hands, forcing Spencer to look at him. Spencer looks down.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Spencer," Brendon says and the next thing Spencer feels are soft lips on his own. His eyes close involuntarily, and he sucks in a startled breath. He thought Brendon might be angry, confused, weirded out, that Brendon would let him down gently or freak out, but he didn't consider this to be a possibility at all. 

Brendon doesn't let go, waits until Spencer relaxes completely into the simple, sweet kiss before he moves away and smiles at Spencer. "It's okay." Spencer pulls Brendon back close to him, and dares to give him a quick peck on the lips. Brendon laughs, a giddy, happy sound, and Spencer's heart thumps wildly in his chest. They kiss again and again, starting out gently, learning each other's cues and what makes them gasp and shudder.

It's Brendon who pulls Spencer on top of himself. Bogart huffs pointedly from his end of the couch and he hops down to move into his doggie bed. Brendon laughs against Spencer's skin, and Spencer wants him to never stop laughing. Spencer pushes himself up on his elbows, but Brendon keeps tugging until Spencer settles down on him again. "I'm crushing you," Spencer whispers against Brendon's neck.

"No, you're not. I like it like this," is Brendon’s response, and Spencer can't suppress a shudder. That has the effect of bringing his hips down against Brendon's and underneath him Brendon moans. "Do that again."

Making out turns into something more serious. Spencer's not sure how or when they lose their shirts, but he's suddenly skin to skin with Brendon. He explores every inch he can reach. He finds out that Brendon's nipples are pretty sensitive, that he likes being kissed everywhere, and that Spencer can pull him apart simply by moving down his body, his tongue dipping into Brendon's bellybutton as he passes it, muscles jumping underneath Spencer's fingers. He cautiously opens Brendon's jeans, listening intently for any word of discomfort, but Brendon sighs when the zipper is pulled down, and Spencer pushes down his jeans and underwear. 

Spencer hasn't done this in a long time, but he figures they won't have changed the mechanics of blow jobs in the meantime. He stares at Brendon's cock for a moment before he grins. "I've been wanting to do this ever since you first sang that fucking song to me."

Brendon laughs. "Stupid, what do you think the song is about? Your stupid face and your expensive taste ..." Brendon trails off as Spencer takes the tip of his cock in his mouth. The taste is weirdly familiar, but underneath the general muskiness lies something that's all Brendon, and Spencer can't hold back. He doesn't care whether he comes across as desperate, he goes to town.

Brendon shudders and he grabs Spencer's hair with both hands. Spencer smiles around Brendon's cock and puts one hand around the base, the other hand on his hips to keep Brendon from pushing up. Then he starts to take Brendon in as far as he can, and Brendon whimpers and his hands tightens and Spencer loves this. He tongues the vein running along Brendon's cock, thick and pulsing, and starts moving his head. He loses himself in the simple movements of giving a blow job, his head bobbing up and down, his hand jacking Brendon in the same rhythm, the taste of precome heavy on his tongue. Above him, Brendon gives off a long litany of curses and endearments with Spencer's name mixed in. 

Spencer almost misses it when Brendon starts sounding more desperate. He can't miss Brendon trying to pull him off, but he's stubborn. He'd like to tell Brendon that no, if this is the only time he's going to get this (because Brendon might still freak out afterwards, but then he might _not_ , if his reactions are anything to go by, but then Spencer thought that after 15 years of friendship Ryan would always be a constant in his life and look where that got him), he's doing this all the way through, no matter what. And soon enough Brendon stiffens, his hands so tight in Spencer's hair that it hurts, but then he comes in Spencer's mouth, and Spencer has just enough time to pull back so he doesn't choke. He swallows everything, relishing the taste. He keeps licking at Brendon's cock until Brendon whimpers, puts his head down on Brendon's hip and tries to catch his breath.

Brendon pats his hair. "That was ... wow." Spencer grins against Brendon's skin and slowly kisses his way upwards. He stretches out lazily on Brendon and keeps kissing whatever he can reach. 

He's not quite surprised when Brendon reaches for his cock, but he didn't expect it either. Brendon keeps the hand job simple, jerking Spencer off gently, while they keep kissing and touching. Spencer's still riled up from the blow job, and it doesn't take him long to reach the edge. He tries to get Brendon to go slow, to let Spencer catch his breath, but Brendon jacks him faster instead, adding a little twist at the end, and kisses Spencer deep. When Spencer comes, he sighs against Brendon's mouth and lets himself slump down, for once not worrying about crushing Brendon. 

Brendon wraps his arms around Spencer, his hand still wet from come, and holds him close. Spencer puts his hand on Brendon's shoulder, slowly stroking down and up his arm. They're quiet, and all too soon Spencer feels himself slipping away into sleep. 

~~~***~~~

When Spencer wakes up in the morning, he's alone--the house is quiet, no sign of Brendon or Bogart, but someone put a blanket on Spencer. His stomach tightens and a heavy ball of dread forms. Spencer showers quickly, and then airs out the living room, the smell of sex and come still hanging in the air (he doesn't know whether that's even true or whether he only thinks he can still smell _them_ because he knows what they did last night; but the cool fresh air helps). 

A couple minutes later, he finds a text on his phone: _at shanes wll be bck later_. 

Brendon comes back at close to midnight. Spencer's lying in his bed, listening intently as Brendon goes into the bathroom, comes out and goes to his own bedroom. The next morning, they don't talk about anything that happened. They throw out the magazine and life continues.

They're careful around each other, trying not to overstep undeclared boundaries. It keeps fucking with Spencer's head because sometimes he looks up and catches sight of Brendon's lips, and he thinks to himself: _I know what he tastes like._ Then he has to remind himself that Brendon ran away, and he feels cold and lonely. But sometimes he catches Brendon looking at _him_ , and it's these moments that trip him up the most. It doesn't make any sense to Spencer. After all, it was Brendon who told Spencer not to worry, that everything was all right, but it's pretty obviously not, and Spencer has no idea how to make it right.

In an attempt to restore their normal relationship, Spencer drags Brendon out for sandwiches. He wants his best friend back. It works. There's too much food and soda, as usual. Brendon smiles, and curses Spencer out for making him eat so much. Spencer bickers back happily, because this kind of exchange has been rare in the last week and Spencer misses it. They goad each other all the way home until they collapse on the couch. Spencer tweets about his misery. Brendon's phone beeps and he gives Spencer a look before checking his messages. He goes unnaturally still next to Spencer (they're both sprawled on the couch, arms and knees touching, as if nothing at all had happened) and Spencer gives him a worried look. Brendon puts his phone away and he looks intently at the TV.

"A mandate, uh?" Spencer frowns. "Well, yeah. We are two men and we went for food. That's a mandate." It's only then that he catches on. He drops his head on the back of the couch and closes his eyes. "Brendon, what exactly is going on here?"

Spencer feels tired. He doesn't know what to make of Brendon's behaviour at all. He almost wishes they'd never... But it's all a moot point now.

Brendon doesn't move. "I don't know what you mean."

"You said it was okay." Spencer turns his head to look at Brendon. He's still staring at the TV. "But you don't behave like it was or is okay. We've been fucked up all week, Bren, and I can't figure out where you're at."

Brendon looks defeated, as he crumbles in slowly on himself. He pulls his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around them. It hurts Spencer to see him like that, and it hurts even more because it's apparently because of Spencer.

"It is okay," Brendon insists. "I just. I didn't think." He sighs. "I didn't think it would be like that."

"Like what?" Spencer's completely lost here. "Brendon, I ... You wanted it, too, right?" Spencer is pretty sure that he didn't misread the situation this much.

Brendon shakes his head vigourously. "No, no, I ..." He swallows heavily. "I did want it. That's kind of the problem."

Spencer blinks. From where he's standing, that isn't a problem at all. That is the fucking solution. He says as much.

"I don't want to fuck us up, too," Brendon says miserably. "This can't end well."

"Brendon ..." Spencer moves over and wraps his arms around Brendon. He resists for a moment, but then he leans against Spencer. "We're different," Spencer says. "Things are different now."

"I'm scared," Brendon whispers.

"I know."

Brendon kisses Spencer. He keeps the kiss gentle and innocent, a quick press of their lips. It's sweet , and Spencer smiles. "See, that wasn't too bad, was it?"

Brendon nods. "Still-" Spencer covers Brendon's mouth with his hand. "We'll figure it out. We're going to make this work. You want it and I want it, and we're gonna be okay."

Brendon whispers _thank you_ against Spencer's palm, and he leans more heavily against Spencer. He tugs at Spencer's arm until Spencer drops his hand from Brendon's face and embraces him again. He presses another gentle kiss against Spencer's face.

They stretch out on their couch again, only this time they're watching a bad science fiction movie. Brendon entwines their fingers. It's comfortable, and Spencer falls asleep listening to the awful dialogue between the protagonist and his half-human, half-reptilian female love interest.

Later that night Brendon shakes him awake and pulls him into Brendon's bedroom. "Please stay," he says. "Just ... Sleep with me? In the same bed, I mean. If you want?"

Spencer lets himself fall into Brendon's bed. They cuddle, and Spencer could fall asleep like this every night for the rest of his life. It's a happy outlook, even though they still haven't talked about everything. Things aren't perfect, and they won't be for a while, but now he has this, Brendon in his arms, and he thinks they can start figuring stuff out tomorrow. Tonight, this is enough.  



End file.
